The World Outside Hetalia
by Buko-koko
Summary: He tells me with a hug that Pirates don't play fair. I wonder why he doesn't remember this until now. CanadaxAmerica A Town Called Hetalia Sequel
1. Untitled

**The World Outside of Hetalia**

**Pairing(s)****: AmericaxCanada (hints at AmericaxEngland), SpainxRomano, GermanyxItaly, AustriaxHungary (hints at GilbertxHungary), RussiaxLithuania, and more**

**A/N****: BAW. I HAVE TO SAY I LOVE KATNINJA. GO LOVE ON HER GUYS FOR THE WONDERFUL IDEA AND LETTING ME DO A SEQUEL OF THE WONDERFUL IDEA. Go, because I command it!**

**Haa—Anyway, EVEN IF THIS IS THE FIRST THING I POST, I swear it isn't my first fanfiction, so don't go about thinking I suck D: I'll try my best to "not suck" though, 'coz I'm pretty sure three years does things to your writing ability ahahaha.**

**By the way, this is in Canada's POV, because I'm trying to keep it in the same concept it was found (in the prequel :D), but I switch off into 3****rd**** person towards the end because I have some foreshadowing I need to put out. **

**Anyway, Enjoy!**

**---**

A month has passed, and everything in Hetalia was never so calm. With Amal in jail, and Arthur no longer taking his weekly visits, Alfred and I were able to enjoy a normal life where we could just normally get used to being newly move-ins. Already, tons of people have visited in the past week apologizing for the rough time we had just having gotten settled in.

Alfred was getting his stitches out today.

I sat outside the door, tapping my fingers on my knees as I waited silently for my juggernaut of a brother to come wandering outside without bandages around his chest (I secretly curse those bandages for getting in my way when I want to hug him). The hospital wasn't that unwelcome, but it was a little uneasy watching a few random people without limbs come in and out. I swear every one of them got some kind of one hour physical therapy, and I've seen every one of them come in and walk out. Does it really take this long to take stitches?

Of course, I figured it wouldn't be too long before someone familiar wandered past. Then sure enough, there went Toris, trembling about, looking as if he were more lost than I was.

"Hey Toris?" I asked as he took a few steps ahead of where I sat. He was too distracted to notice me, and I figured that was probably normal. Ivan was probably getting his stitches out too, after all.

He jumped and turned around, immediately beginning a string of apologies for not noticing me. He sat next to me after bowing for the fifth time and held his knees tightly. "…So, waiting for Alfred?" He asked after a bit of a moment of silence. I nodded wordlessly and just watched him. There wasn't an answer after that, not that I expected one.

I figured I should just probably get nosy. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah." That was a lie. The most oblivious idiot in the world could have probably seen that. But, knowing Toris and what happens around him, I decided not to pry. I went back to my pattern of tapping my fingers on my knees then biting my lip every now and then with a slightly annoyed, slightly anxious frown. After a while of this, it was soon getting quite obvious that Toris was trying to get something out to me, though.

"How's Ivan?" I asked, impatient with the dreadful silence.

He looked at me with glittering green eyes before staring at his knees with a gentle, weak smile. "He overdosed yesterday and… fell down a doc." He got each word out extremely slowly, and he flinched every now and then to look around with a worried look. I didn't blame him, as pitiful as Ivan's drinking problem is, I couldn't help but sympathize for Toris's worry.

"He'll be okay." I said kindly, putting an arm on his shoulder. It was the only thing I could have thought of, but it was true. Ivan's scary looks didn't come without its strength. He has a lot more in him than just a drunk player, and I'm pretty sure Toris knows that too.

But that doesn't stop him from worrying like a proper wife. I had to smile to this. It was so cute, so perfect. Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to married to my brother.

…then again, I'd not like to wonder. Living with him is already hectic as it is.

Toris gave me a smile, not a fake one this time. And this one was filled with newfound confidence. I suddenly felt lightheaded in happiness, "Thanks Matthew." He said, hugging me. He stood up and bowed one last time before scuttering down the hall, probably in the direction of Ivan's room. I watched proudly, hoping that their relationship won't be as rocky as it was when I first met them.

They _did _get married for a reason right?

As Toris disappeared behind a corner, the door beside my chair finally opened, and out came Alfred with a pale face. It made me wonder what they were actually doing in there.

"I hate hospitals now." He said directly before taking my hand and ushering me down the halls and out the doors.

I didn't ask questions, and I didn't want to. As soon as we were out, he gave me a smile that made my world forget that I waited god-knows-how-long, and I leaned against him, holding his hand back. We walked all the way home like this, not needing to say a word to express a thing. We only felt it.

Toris and Ivan can have their wonderful and cute marriage, I had Alfred, and that's all I could ever want.

**---**

Night came by fast. Alfred had decided to take me out to eat after we got things organized at home, and Uncle Francis told us to be safe and claimed he had other things to do as well and left. Alfred gave me a funny look at told me that uncle was probably trying to get some. I smacked him, hard.

I couldn't help but wonder how Toris and Ivan were doing as me and Alfred conversed about something with the hay stacks outside the barn near the library. I don't even remember how it evolved into that. I'm pretty sure we were talking about Lovino and Antonio before that.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Roderich and Elizaveta conversing happily on a separate table over wine and cheese. I smiled to myself; things were just heading upwards in every way.

"Alfred?" I said suddenly, breaking him midsentence about horses and hay. His attention turned to me, and I smiled weakly, "Well, um, I just kind of…" I paused. It's been about a month delayed now, not that everything between me and Alfred has ever been on time, "…well, I wanna say thank you for saving me from Amal, and I'm sorry about what happened."

He gave me the blankest look then laughed, kissing me on the forehead, "Do you think I'd let the most important person in the world to me die?" He said, dead whisper. I blushed and leaned up to kiss his lips. As I did, though, I felt the strangest feeling of guilt.

Arthur had kissed these lips too, multiple times.

As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I backed away from his mouth with a shy smile. He must have taken it as me being hard-to-get, because he gave me one of those I'll-get-you-later smiles. I gave him an empty smile back, and as soon as he turned away, I frowned at my toes. I don't know what feeling overwhelmed me more, the fact that Arthur had been chosen over me for such a long time, or the fact that Arthur might be somewhere, weeping like I was, without Alfred.

I couldn't ignore the feeling, even as we had a three hour make-out session after the dinner.

I knew nothing about Arthur's whereabouts, so why did I even worry?

I turned to my side of the bed silently as Alfred began snoring, and cried myself to sleep.

**---**

(3rd person)

"Hey, look at that guy! He's that pirate captain ain't he?" Arthur avoided the random, unknown objects being thrown at him and sighed. These fugitives were insane.

"But he's got a nice body, _phew_!!" As soon as he saw the man copy the shape of his ass curve and whistled, he stammered and ran ahead, ignoring the collected laughs behind him.

He could no longer ignore things like this. Alfred no longer owned him. He no longer had a place to run to.

Falling against a wall where the fugitives couldn't see him, he let out a loud sigh and cried softly. Why was he doing this? Why was he even thinking of doing this?

"You don't look happy." The deep, smooth voice passed by Arthur's ears easily. The pirate looked up with sad, gleaming green eyes. The voice continued, "Do I know who?"

Arthur didn't answer that. "I'm bailing you out, just be glad about that." He growled, "And by the way, you're paying for that lost ship."

The other man snickered and caressed a hand over Arthur's soft face. The captain slapped it away immediately and growled, kicking the other man in the leg. This received a pained moan in return. "Don't misjudge me. I'm a captain of a pirate ship. Pirates don't always play fair. And you're going to pay back for that bloody ship one way or another."

"…does this assure that I get what I want too?" The man asked. Arthur bit his lip and glared.

Once again, the questions relayed in his head. Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

This was the bad thing to do. This wasn't right.

But he was a pirate. Pirates aren't supposed to be goody two shoes.

He told himself this was he unlocked the door to the chamber.

**---**

**A/N: Augh! I hope I didn't totally ruin the plot D: Yes, Matty's feeling insecure, and there's a bunch of reasons why. I WILL REVEAL SO LATER. Mayb—just kidding, I will.**

**Thanks again to KatNinja! D: And please, if you don't like it, please tell me to remove it. I bet you not to sugar coat the fact that I probably ruined your beautiful story! –bows- please forgive me if I did!**

**Reviews are appreciated, if truth speaks, and truth speaks well. AKA, no bashes, flames, or other things that have one or two words in it, but I gladly accept things like CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM. For seyure. Love you all! Thanks for reading! (I will update ASAP)**

**Finally: I'm known for multiple mistakes in grammar and stuff, and I don't have a beta atm. I'll try my best to beta my own stuff though, lol. To at least make it READABLE enough.**


	2. Words About Problems

**Chapter 2: Words about Problems**

I woke up the next day with red puffy eyes.

Alfred asked me what was wrong, and I simply replied that I might have gotten allergies from sitting out too long. He apologized to me, kissed me on the forehead then headed off to work. It was then I started an hour contemplation over why I should or should not get a job as well, and figuring that it was probably good to at least try a job out, I grabbed my hat and stepped out into the fresh air.

I locked the door behind me, Uncle Francis hadn't returned from last night for some reason.

**-----**

Today was a nice day, so it wasn't too bad walking around.

I decided to stop by Ludwig's deli first, and like usual, Feliciano was by the door. However, he wasn't exactly asleep this time. I knelt down and gave a simple "hi". We sat in silence, just staring at each other before his eyes began to shimmer sadly. I began to wonder what the problem was, but I was ready for anything. After all, I helped Toris's problems yesterday, what could Feliciano have up his sleeve? His lips began to quaver, worrying me. Then he wrapped his arms around my neck.

"I forgot your name!" were the first things that came out of his mouth. I tried to keep a grin on my face, but wow, that was forward.

I wrapped my arms around him also a bit after, patting his back, "Don't sweat it, it's Matthew. Matthew Williams?" The name came out as a question unconsciously. I just realized I was almost inclined to replace my last name with Jones. My face heated up rapidly.

"Oh! Matthew! I'll remember it from now on! I will!" Feliciano cried, saluting. The soldier stance looked quite silly on him, but I had to admit he was a pretty cute fellow. It was so hard to restrain myself that I ended up patting him on the head with a smile on my face. He smiled back, brown eyes gleaming.

"So, what are you doing sitting here alone, Feliciano?" I pondered. He looked at me, almost swaying just like the grass on a windy day. I had to admit he had some pretty weird points.

"Ludwig told me I had to sit out here until I learnt how to not walk in on him in the shower." My face went red, but I couldn't hear any hint of bad intention in Feliciano's voice. Back to the fact that he had pretty weird points, this was probably one of them. But as much as I could not blame Ludwig for locking out Feliciano like a cat, it was just too hard to see Feliciano doing anything remotely bad.

So I changed the subject, "I was looking for a job, do you think Ludwig has an opening?" I looked at him hopefully. He only grinned happily and grabbed my hand.

"Of course! Come in!" Despite his punishment, he pushed the door to the deli open and called out loud, "Ludwig! Ludwig! Matthew's here! He needs a job!"

"Feliciano, I to—" He stopped midsentence when he saw me. His constant frown was replaced with… what seemed to be a smile. I grinned back, sensing the mood over seeing it. "Matthew, how's your brother?"

"He's doing great, thank you." I grinned and walked in with Feliciano, who immediately ran over to tackle Ludwig to the ground with a hug. However, due to the height and weight difference, Ludwig was not affected enough to fall. But Feliciano was still latching onto Ludwig's neck for his dear life. Ludwig immediately began blushing as he bent over and let the Italian touch the ground before pushing him softly to let go. Feliciano eventually complied, but it wasn't before he gave a friendly "ciao~" and a kiss on both cheeks.

They were too cute; I have no idea why they're not publically an item yet.

After they settled down, Ludwig sat down with me and talked with me about meat cutting and whatnot. I eventually couldn't take it, and told him that I couldn't really do it. The thought of cutting up raw cow meat and intestine just… didn't sink in. He told me it was fine, and that I wasn't the only one who couldn't take the thought of cutting up newly-dead animals. I thanked him for his time and began to walk out of the door.

Feliciano grinned at me. "Take care of that brother of yours!" He said, causing me to turn around.

"You also, take care of Ludwig!"

I'm pretty sure there was a discreet hint of a blush on his face as he waved me off.

**-----**

The second place I visited was Gilbert's bar. As much as the thought of being a bartender made me repulse.

I found, however, that the bar had been taken over by a substitute since the wedding. Gilbert hadn't returned since. I felt very sorry for the guy; he must have really loved Elizaveta. I know how that must have felt for him, except for the fact I got to have mine in the end.

I frowned and stopped walking for a bit, sitting down and collecting my thoughts. I felt horrible all the sudden.

Like yesterday.

I held my head and tried not to cry. I was at the verge of running through the city in search for the ex-bartender, to council him a bit. It was the least I could probably do for Arthur's sake.

However, just as I was about to look up, there was a deep, yet kind, "Are you okay, Matthew?"

I finished turning my head up, it was Kiku, the owner of that one restaurant. I gave him a fake smile and stood up, easily towering over him. However, he looked up with the same worried look on his face, "I'm fine."

It did kind of scare me, though. I'm pretty sure I've only actually been with Kiku once or twice. And he remembered my name.

Then again, I might just be surprised after the episode with Feliciano. Thinking back, I don't think I should be surprised about what happened with Feliciano, the man was cute but a bit forgetful.

Back to the present, though, Kiku didn't look the least bit convinced. "I heard you were looking for a job." He said, completely not correlating to the thoughts I'm pretty sure are running through his mind right now. He read me like a book, I bet. I was glad he said the next sentence, or I'm pretty sure I would have freaked out and asked him if he was psychic or something. "I heard from Ludwig."

I nodded slowly, just going along with the conversation. "Yeah, I want to help my brother earn enough money so we can move out of Uncle Francis's house."

He nodded and smiled, "I would be happy to have you be a waiter at my restaurant, Matthew."

Well, a waiter wasn't bad at all, and by the things I knew about Kiku so far, the outfits probably weren't too… showey. As much as it would please Alfred, I would rather not wear maid skirts that ran up high enough that if my body did anything other than a complete 180 degree straight up that my man-panties would show. And Kiku seemed nice, scary, but nice.

And thus, I started working at Kiku's restaurant.

**-----**

Taiwan was actually a pretty cool girl. I didn't actually know she loved fashion until we talked as we cleaned up the tables after the customers left. The only reason she didn't seem to talk before was because she was extremely shy. Kiku used to be her only outlet source. She thanked me for talking to her.

I didn't mind it; she was extremely fun to talk to. People are probably missing out by writing her off as one of those silent devils. We immediately connected because of that though.

After we were finished cleaning, Kiku asked me to come with him to go visit Ludwig for some meat and fish so we could talk. I bid Taiwan adieu, and felt great that I made a new friend.

"I wanted to explain the payment regulation and other things to you." He said simply. I nodded, ready to listen. "But more importantly, why you looked sad this morning."

I felt myself jump when he said that.

He put a comforting hand on my shoulder, noticing this. Giving me a grin before staring off into the distance, he continued, "Are you uncomfortable to tell me?" The sentence was horribly structured, but it was understandable enough for me to understand. I decided against pretending to not understand his _Engrish_.

"…I haven't seen Gilbert since the wedding." I said, frowning. He looked at me for a bit then returned to looking ahead.

"I am worried too, but the look on your face tells me something else is bothering you." I stuttered at this before thinking a bit. Kiku was starting to scare me, but it didn't stop me from talking with him for some reason.

Very vaguely that is.

"K-Kiku," I stuttered his name, somehow wanting to use "Mr." all of the sudden, "What happens to the person who doesn't get who he loves?" I felt my heart accelerate and my limbs fall loose beside me. It almost scared me to death telling someone I knew barely enough to call a close friend something so personal, even if vague.

Kiku didn't even bother a fake smile as he responded, "Honestly, many things can happen to that person. It all depends on how he deals with it, and who he chooses to help him. We've all got our problems, Matthew, is just the matter in which they are solved."

I didn't really understand what he meant at all by that, but I nodded and grinned. It was nice of him to somewhat help and it was the least I could do. We got the meat from Ludwig and Kiku dismissed me soon after. He mumbled something about Hercules then scurried off after putting the meat in the fridge, wishing me a good night.

It was about eight o'clock, and it was only then I realized that Alfred had no idea where I was or what I've been doing. Without a word, I scurried home too, Kiku's words of wisdom stuck in my head.

And I still didn't quite get it.

**-----**

I was pulled into quite a hug when the door opened. Alfred's cries of missing me, followed by strings of questions, almost went right through my ears. I was able to wing it though, knowing Alfred was just probably wondering where I was, despite the abundance of incoherent syllables running out of his mouth.

I told him I got a job at Kiku's restaurant, and all the other details. He listened intently for about two minutes before pushing me inside. Of course, I didn't have time to ask him about what Kiku told me. I have a feeling Alfred was barely listening in the first place. I didn't mind though, he's probably just happy that I got home safe. That was at least a comfort I can live with.

It was about the point that I was tying on my pink birthday apron when Alfred finally started up a reasonable conversation, "Uncle Francis still hasn't come back?"

I almost wanted to smack myself for almost forgetting. "Actually, I was wondering where he went off to, he wasn't here this morning either." Al would get into his little rants about how Uncle was a typical French man, and/or that he should stop flirting around so much before he got killed for it. I was giggling to this, I admit. Alfred had his ways of lightening situations, and I had to say it affected me well.

But this little amount of happiness shattered as there was a knock at the door. Seeing as I was obviously busy still cutting mushrooms, Alfred ran over instead. I was pretty sure Al was midsentence of some kind of a anti-flirting sermon when he gasped, "Uncle Francis? What happened?"

I dropped making dinner and ran into the living room.

Alfred was holding a broken figure over his shoulder. Said figure lay limply, thin curls of blond hair splayed all over his thin face, sticking to droplets of sweat and blood. Around his eyes and various parts of his arms and legs were covered in purple-blueish spots, and a few of his teeth were missing. I didn't recognize this man as my uncle until he spoke. Weakly, but he did, "Alfred, Matthew, I hope you took care of yourselves while I was gone, qoi?" He fainted shortly after. Al and I weren't sure if it was from exhaustion, shock, or merely overdose, but we knew uncle was not going to be okay for the next weeks, and we knew for sure that whatever happened to him was probably not something that we could get out of him in an everyday conversation.

**-----**

**A/N: UGHHH. SORRY FOR LONG TIME NO UPDATE GUYS. I honestly wanted to, but Finals came up, and every drop of minute was spent studying. Sort of. Anyway, I hope this chapter was long enough to make up for it. I'm sorry if it's getting very confusing, I think I should stop trying to fit all my ideas of foreshadowing in at once. Hurr.**

**Oh yeah, next chapter will written completely in third person. I'm going to be explaining Francis's part of this chapter ha ha! Thanks so much for the reviews guys! AND THANKS SO MUCH TO KATNINJA AGAIN FOR LETTING ME SEQUEL HER AMAZING WORK! Thanks for reading!**


	3. Pirates, Playgrounds, and Bad Guys

**A/N: Hello. I'm going to try to dish out whatever my memory before-things-happened had in mind for this story. Yes memories have minds. **

**I believe I said I'd write in third person for Francis's part of the story. Hrm. Hopefully I don't screw this one up whee**

**To KatNinja: I'm going to be creating this really awkward past for Arthur. I hope it doesn't fly way off your list of expectations. If it does, you can slap me, and I can rewrite this as fast as a jackrabbit.  
**

**IN JOY. **

-----

He left in a hurry once he knew his nephews were left. Probably out to eat, he figured, feet making a rather disgusting splashing sound as he stepped in the puddles hear the doc.

And there it was, a glorious ship that looked nothing less than notorious. Each little scratch and patched up part proved it's been through it's own battles and so have the men who have boarded it.

Whether they be alive or dead.

Francis found himself chuckling to himself as he realized just how corny that sounded--to run away in a pirate ship, to leave everything one has ever had to become something so_ dangerous_, so _lacking of morality. _

Arthur was that boy. Francis would never forget the way he acted just before he left and the way he changed through the long years.

He paused and watched the men on the ship as they carried in goods and supplies like any normal ship would have. He wasn't sure when Hetalia became a perfect, _innocent_ supply point for the ship. Hetalia was a somewhat small town--one of the towns where _everybody _seemed to know _everyone else_, and that was that. Arthur acted almost just as home as he had before he changed his life. So his men followed suit.

Of course, it didn't come free. It wasn't like usual where they'd _steal_ what they'd need then ride away. For some reason, inside of the little town called Hetalia, _everyone _knew _everyone else_, _everyone _seemed to be close friends, and in turn, stealing was not as tolerated. But Arthur knew that. Obviously. His soul and body may be sold to the seas, but his heart stays on the lands of the town. His past stays on the lands of the town. He knew better than to rob a perfectly peaceful town of its very little riches then run off thinking it's okay to return every now and then.

Hetalia is probably the only place that lets an obviously filthy-of-guilt pirate ship doc then buy supplies. Arthur had a debt he had to repay just for that.

Of course, that wasn't the _only_ reason he needed to be nice to stay. He had a very _specific_ reason to stay at Hetalia.

"Arthur." Francis shook his head with discernment. What he sees behind this, even he barely knew.

It was almost a quick decision to not check if Arthur had been on his ship.

-----

"You're stupid."

Blunt, to the point, it barely held emotion, it was just _there_. He had a frown under his slightly chapped lips, and his dirty blond hair dripped damply from seawater. He was facing someone from behind a cage.

"You take me out of a jail cell to put me in a different, less comfortable jail cell. I find this useless and ironic. Unless you hate me for some odd reason too."

The man on the opposite end didn't speak back, only turning around and facing the stairs.

"So what now, are you _ashamed_?"

"Ashamed of what." The smaller man growled, turning sharply. It was a statement. Not a question. He was almost happy when the darker-haired man shut up for what seemed like a good amount of time since the bastard had arrived. Of course, that was just about three breaths. No longer had he held his tongue.

"Just _what _have you lost after all this happened, hm?" He grinned, continuing after he realized the other man flinch, "Or should I say _whom_?" By the obvious drop in mood, he chuckled to himself in triumph. However, it wasn't long before the other man grabbed his pirate coat and flew right out in a rush, tears staining his reddened eyes. His mouth was in quite a scowl, even after he stood among the ship and yelled bloody Mary out into the endless ocean-covered horizon. His men watched, confused as they had been the moment before he locked himself in the dungeon for an entire collection of three hours. Tears were streaming down his face, but that could have easily been confused with the seawater he ended up dumping himself in right before his disappearance.

Their new prisoner hadn't been so kind after finding out where he'd be staying on the ship.

Their captain barely gave a sign of acknowledgment to the rest of his men before stomping down the steps and into the town. He wanted to get a drink. At a pub. In the town. Away from his ship. In his pirate uniform.

A sloppy hand slapped his left eye then dragged down his face, taking some skin with it. His obviously reddened eye widened for a second right before he pulled the hand off.

"Frikken' sh-"

-----

There was a cute little play-set right outside of the deli. It consisted of a tree house, a tire attatched to strong string that hung off the same tree that held the lump of wood, glue, and metal, and last but not least, a sandbox. The tree was already withering from the years of use (even Francis himself had swung along that tire in his age of youth) and the rope had just about snapped from how much more heaver the kids were getting on the island (though, when he last checked, it was Alfred alone who had broken the swing), but it still looked as gloriously happy as it had been many years before.

He walked towards it in a silent movement and touched the side of the treehouse easily. He couldn't help but remember that he used to have to actually _climb_ the tree in order to reach the height of the house. Now it was at his eye-level. That was when he realized rustling inside. Curious to what child would be out that late at night, he peered in, almost voicing his thoughts.

But there was a grown man inside.

"Hello." He said instead, observing the man-in-fetal-position. The figure shifted and looked up with reddened gleaming green eyes before looking down again. The man didn't speak, as if he was trying to hide his identity. Just like he used to way back in the day.

And Francis wasn't stupid.

The Frenchman turned and leaned against the tree house, right next to its only opening. Rather than slamming the man right on the nail, he waited. Fireflies buzzed around quite quickly as his mouth curved into a dim frown. His clipped nails were pushing against the skin near his elbow. But he just waited. No matter how tightly shut his lilac eyes got, no matter how far his skin was pulled by strong fingers, he waited.

"Can you go away now?" the words finally came. Of course in truth, it had only been about five minutes, but to both men, it seemed like more.

"Arthur." he mumbled quietly, but with just enough breath for the other to hear.

The man in question just grimaced and nothing more. The atmosphere continued to drop exponentially.

Francis knelt down and examined a growling flower among the grass. He pulled it off softly with a _pluck _and watched it blow in the soft nightly breeze before running his fingers over the pedals. There were many flowers like this across the island, all in different colors and sizes. This particular one was yellow tinting blue at the edges. The little nectar buds danced just as much as the pedals did, as if trying to help please those who watch it. Even though he had cut off the plant's life-source. Even if it was beginning it's process in withering to its death.

"How are you?" he continued after a long while. There was no use in pressing for something he would never get an answer to.

It was nothing more than a rude remark, but it was at least an answer, "What do you care."

It wasn't a question, but Francis debated it anyway, "What makes you think I don't?"

"You don't." the younger argued back.

Francis sighed. It was irrational and it wasn't even a reason. But it was there, and a little part of it was true. Francis really had stopped caring at some point. But during that time, Arthur looked happier than he could ever be. However, that didn't mean he couldn't just pick up and start over again, start _caring _again.

"_Oui_, so according to you, _mon ami_, I don't have enough of a heart to look at you right now and not worry."

There was a pause. Francis didn't know whether it was that he was contemplating the French part of what he said or what he said all together. Yet, there was still a dry response.

"That's right." Arthur said nothing more, his mouth curving into a scowl as the conversation went on.

Francis peered in again. The man was in a fetal position, but that was quite normal, seeing as he would make any type of movement _from _that position, his head would have easily collided with the old, splintered wood of the tree house. His arms were carefully wrapped around his ripped-up pants; his face was buried so that it looked as if he was staring almost directly at his stomach, waiting for it to explode or some other extremely-fun-sounding-event-that-wouldn't-happen-outside-of-one's-imagination.

Still, Francis reached in and softly bumped his fist on his old friend's head, a bumping sound ensuing right before he pulled back fast enough to avoid a rather cat-like movement of the other's hand towards the "weapon of choice". "Leave me alone." Arthur repeated, his blood-shot gleaming green eyes becoming visible from where his arm was hiding it. His face was drenched in tears and his face was just as bloodshot as his eyes were. He looked like a tomato with two stems. That wasn't quite as appealing as it should have been.

Arthur stared back at him for a moment, watching as fascinated blue eyes contemplated the shape of the other man who was inside the splintered-wall-tree-house in a fetal position. It wasn't like it was awkward to be in there or anything. Or at least that was what he was thinking as the other man's quick hand went up to flip some naturally wavy hair around his ear from where it was standing right in front of his eyes. Those blue-lilac eyes that looked as if they could discern every moment of your life just by looking at you. Arthur growled and covered his face once again, not wanting to remember how he usually felt under the pressure of that familiar stare. Not that he hadn't already remembered it. It wasn't that hard to recall.

"You're stupid." he said, muffled from under the layers of cloth and flesh that concealed his face. That felt like the millionth time he'd probably said that on that day. Or night. Or afternoon, if one was _trying _to be precise. But it was different then. It was weak, almost fake, and completely out of habit. It was nothing more than a reflex he must have built but hid away for so many years. Francis almost grinned. Only because it brought back a memory he wanted to keep forever. Only, one day it had vanished. For many years it hadn't been there, but he felt it all flooding back to him once more.

"How long has it been?" he said aloud. His face was curved into a half-smile-half-frown that made no sense but existed anyway.

"Years." the other snorted. "Years I'm glad for, by the way. Get the hell out of here."

Francis laughed. "I don't know. Though your usual I-got-pinched-in-the-ass-by-a-crab self is back, you're still acting like some kid stole your icecream, _mon ami_."

"Git." Arthur murmured back before kicking his way out of the ol' clubhouse just to retaliate faster than a vulture to smack his old comrade. The one he left "years" ago.

Francis rubbed his reddened face before following the blond past the deli down the street. Lights were just beginning to get shut off, twilight had passed almost an hour ago.

"What's a little kid like you doing out this late?" he asked, catching up to ruffle the already messy hair Arthur had. In turn, the Brit just grumbled.

"What will it take to get you to notice I _want you to go away_." The last few words came right through clenched teeth. Bad teeth, may Francis add, but he didn't mind.

"Maybe if _mon ami _will tell me what is on his mind." Francis negotiated.

Arthur only spat. "As if."

He tried to quicken his speed, but Francis was catching up in no time. They were jogging just about the time they reached the docs.

Right before they reached the stairs, Arthur spun around, his pirate coat flying up. "Leave me alone!"

Francis said nothing, only watching him with those same lilac eyes. The ones he wanted to run away from those "years" before. Another moment of silence past as the two just stared. Blue eyes, with the feeling of accomplishment clouded with an overwhelming need for restarting trust and friendship, stared back silently to green eyes that were filled with hurt and pain and anything among those words and phrases, each little piece of who he is, of what his past is, runs through the watery, red-shot eyes like a snow globe. It's impossible not to see what he's been through.

It's impossible to ignore a friend in need.

"Arthur, I-" Francis started, but found the rest of his words jumbled as a rather loud gunshot-like noise rang through the ship, spreading like gas in a container. A few lights in the town shot on and people looked out into the doc. Some, seeing that it was Arthur's ship and that there were many "accidents" with their weaponry groaned and climbed back into their safe and comfy households. Others stared for a moment before deciding it unworthy to go out into the doc to check it out as their comrades who already "deducted" the situation had gone back inside.

But Francis knew this was different. Arthur's pupils got small, or rather, his eyes widened as he shot back around to see one of his men flung right off the edge of the ship and into the water. A trail of blood left the figure's chest as a loud splash resonated through the harbor. Francis bit his lip and watched as a certain man walked towards them, holding another pirate in his hand, a gun in the other.

"Enough of this cheesy crap, you pieces of shit." he laughed. Though it was weakened from lack of food, it held some sort of undertone. It cackled to the back of the mind, where deep where you've sealed things you've long forgotten crack open and flood back. It released a heart-wrenching feeling that crawled to the back of your chest and clawed until you felt your heart pounding away from the source to get away, trying to break through your ribs and into the open. Fear.

Francis quickly spun around to face Arthur, eyes demeaning and disappointed. He didn't even have to say the words for them to get across.

"_You didn't_."

Arthur's face held one of a rather obvious guilt that screamed into the side that meant _yes_. He looked down almost immediately before grabbing a sword hidden at his side and pointing it towards the figure. Francis grumbled and got into a fighting position. Though he isn't one to fight, that didn't mean he forgot those karate lessons all those years ago that he received from Kiku.

"What. Are you _afraid_ I'm gonna do something?" He smiled. His teeth pushed right through his lips, showing broken, rotted teeth from under blood-red eyes. In the dark, it was like a beast starving for evil. There wasn't even a _hint _of goodness through the ravage orbs that pushed right through a person's being.

He threw the poor, unlucky pirate he held out into the sea to live the fate the other pirate had as well. Dead. Just like that.

His hand twirled the gun, almost mockingly.

"By the silence and the poses, I'm guessing words aren't going to settle this one for us. Very well."

And that was probably the last thing the two blond men could remember before breaking out into breathless fight.

-----

"...no! It's true!" Laughter ensued the next afternoon. Seagulls had returned to the harbor, flying about, dropping feathers.

Landing on washed up dead pirates.

"Ch. Bastard." the other replied with a scoff. Both men were carrying a rather large box of _something_, heading towards the empty harbor happily.

"How long have we been here waiting for supplies? I want to go out to sea again. Don't you?" The taller man nudged his friend, causing a few items from both of their boxes to be dropped onto the sandy beach. A rather angry retaliation ensued, causing more items to be knocked over. They created a cute little trail almost instantly.

"It's all because you're stupid and forgot to order the _right things_." the younger mocked, sticking his tongue out at his fellow sailor. Of course, this was meant for an innocent little tease, but that didn't mean the other wouldn't decide to misinterpret it rather quickly.

That tongue was taken by the other's mouth, lips crashed, and the boxes fell onto the ground. The younger's mind swirled as his hand gripped for cloth in order to keep balance and be steady. Everything went through his mind before the fact that _they were out on the beach, in public, making out on the beach, in public_ finally decided to find its way into coherency. The soft hands that had been gripping the other's shirt so hard turned into a rough push off.

"You bastard!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, face turning a shade of red into the next. A hand shot to his mouth in embarrassment before he bent down to pick up all the items.

That was about the time he noticed a rather obvious trail of blood ominously trailing towards a pirate ship. He ignored the box and items before standing and backing away from the trail.

"What's wrong, Lovino?" his captain asked innocently, still busy rubbing his aching chest until the pain went away. But he wasn't stupid. His eyes trailed where Lovino's were and he began to glare. Though his friend was backing away, he grabbed his arm and looked at him sternly, "We need to check." he mumbled.

Lovino couldn't do anything but nod weakly.

They ran towards the harbor, following the awkward trail of blood, and the further they got, the more dead pirates they noticed. Seagulls were picking at the remains in curiosity before squawking in discomfort. It stunk like rotting fish. Except worse. Even stinkier than Ludwig's deli in the early morning. Antonio noticed a trend. Each of the washed up men had a bullet to the heart, and the second bullet almost always alternated from the skull to the arm. Every sixth corpse had a third bullet in the leg. It was almost as if whoever did this had enough of an advantage to organize the way he did his kill. It was _unnerving_.

He felt Lovino move quietly closer next to him, hands shooting up to grip at the other man's sleeve. His green eyes were wide, both shocked by the amount of dead men they saw, and disgusted by the smell. Then they stumbled right before the entrance of the pirate ship.

Two blond men laid lifelessly upon the soft morning sea sand. Lovino backed up almost three feet, holding his mouth in fear. They both knew who those two were.

"Sh. Sh. It's okay." Antonio said quickly, leading his friend closer to the two bodies. He knelt down, first to check the curly haired man's beating but was surprised to see him move before he could. There was a weak groan and he backed away as the Frenchman pulled himself up groggily.

"Francis?" Antonio said, quickly moving to the man's side, "What happened?"

"..." the Frenchman just looked at him blankly, almost as if he couldn't register anything at all. His lilac eyes were like a well. They fell deep into nothingness.

"Who did this to you? What happened?" he repeated sternly. Finally the color ran back to his comrade's face. But as soon as it did, it wasn't an answer he got.

Francis shot over to where the other blond was lying.

"Arthur, Arthur!" he cried out, shaking his friend. Twilight was approaching quickly into the ocean. Francis bit his lip and carried the what-seemed-to-be-a carcass up on his shoulder.

Finally, he turned back to Antonio.

"You have to warn the city. _Amal is back_." he growled through gritted teeth. He was stumbling, but he still had enough stamina to run. He was going to bring Arthur into his home.

"Wait!" Antonio called, half confused, half appalled. Lovino ran over to his captain's side.

"What did he say?"

He only got a stern, unhappy answer, "Lovino, change of plans. We're not leaving. We need to get into town and tell everyone to get prepared. _He's_ back."

For once, Lovino didn't need further explaining. Both ran back into the city, following the innocent little trail of supplies they left on the beach.

And the box that fell right at the beginning of the trail of blood.

-----

**A/N: Hrm. Something tells me I should look this at least once but at the same time I feel like I don't have any time to do that before getting killed. Anyway, here's a completely-unrelated-chapter-to-Matthew-and-Alfred to quicken the plot and add some "romantic moments" ja? **

**Feedback appreciated~!  
**


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